Finding Hannah

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Oh, dear, are you okay?’ she asked, offering Hannah a tissue from her handbag.

  ‘Yes. Thank you. I think the jetlag is catching up with me.’

  ‘Ah. I’m prone to getting a little teary too when I get overtired,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hannah said, pulling herself together.

  ‘Now, where is it you’re trying to get to? Can I help?’

  ‘I’m trying to go here,’ Hannah said, pointing on her hotel circled on the map, ‘but I can’t for the life of me figure out which exit to take to get out of here.’

  ‘I’ll show you.’

  Up on the street the woman pointed and said, ‘You need to go that way. Okay?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you so much.’

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  Hannah was surprised when the woman turned around and disappeared back down the stairs the way they’d come. She’d come all the way up two flights just to show Hannah the way. She almost began weeping out of sheer gratitude. Instead she focussed on making her way to the pizza place she’d walked past the other night on her way back to the hotel. I’m going to have myself a slice, she said in her head, complete with a New Yorker’s accent.

  The following morning, Hannah left her room feeling tired. If only she could sleep properly. She briefly considered staying in, but didn’t want to be there when the house-keeping staff came. And, anyway, she was determined that this would be the day she’d find the perfect souvenir – a ladybird of some description – to take back to each of her dear friends.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Australia,’ said the hotel doorman, grinning and nodding to Hannah as she exited.

  ‘Good morning,’ she called back, smiling warmly. Her day had turned considerably brighter. She’d only had to say ‘Thank you’ a few times when he’d held the door for her and the doorman had picked her accent. ‘Have a great day.’

  She could see why New York was a much-loved city. There was so much to see, it was easy to get around and, despite the frigid weather – which she was finding she didn’t mind – it was warm and friendly. Well, except, it seemed the older men of the city. Those running the diner she’d visited on her first night had been particularly brusque, and the guy in the pizza place was the same. But the pizza had been incredible.

  Hannah went into the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue but decided against joining the long queue waiting to buy entry tickets. She’d come back later. But she noticed the gift shop was almost empty so went in. She was becoming quite the shopaholic. It didn’t help that clothes were incredibly cheap here, even with the exchange rate. She’d bought the cutest puffy jackets for the twins.

  She left the shop feeling thrilled with her purchases – a puzzle each for the boys, a lovely bookmark with the museum’s logo on it, and a necktie and clip for Rob. Back outside she bought a hotdog from one of the many food stands on the sidewalk. Oh, yum, she thought, biting into it. She ambled along the forecourt taking note of the other cuisines on offer and on towards Central Park.

  Hannah stopped to finish her snack at the frozen lake in the park. She was watching the skaters for a few moments when her heart started to ache so badly she couldn’t swallow the next bite. Lovers were holding hands, skating across the ice, and when a guy got down on one knee, presumably to propose, she had to turn away. If the hotel had been closer she might have retreated, but instead she walked a little further to a bench, brushed the light dusting of snow off one end and sat down. She stared at her half-eaten hotdog with tears running down her face.

  Suddenly a dapper looking man with a German shepherd on a lead stopped in front of her. She’d only seen Charlie those two times, but oh how she suddenly missed him. Every time she’d been to the park at home she’d kept an eye out. She’d have given anything to wrap her arms around Charlie’s neck now. What a strange thing to think.

  ‘Excuse me. Are you all right?’ It was a very British accent. ‘Can I be of some assistance?’

  ‘Thank you, but I’m just having a moment,’ Hannah said, offering him a sad smile before swiping at her nose with the paper napkin that had come with the hotdog. ‘My husband died and I …’ She lifted her hand awkwardly and tried to point to the lake before dropping it again and shrugging. Why am I telling a complete stranger?

  ‘Ah. I see,’ the man said, swiping the snow off the bench and sitting down beside her. ‘Yes, I can understand that setting you off. Is that an Australian accent I detect?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Are you visiting or living here?’

  ‘Just visiting.’

  ‘On your own?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re very brave.’

  ‘Thanks. Though I certainly don’t feel remotely brave at the moment,’ she said, with another sad smile. ‘Can I give him the last of my hotdog? I’ve lost my appetite.’ She nodded to the dog.

  ‘Go ahead, he loves the damned things.’

  ‘He’s a beautiful dog,’ she said.

  ‘That he is. His name’s Kip, and he’s kept me sane since I lost my wife Margaret. Haven’t you, boy?’ He patted the dog’s head as he gazed adoringly up at his master.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It was several years ago. I’m adjusting. Probably always will be. That’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s the sadness, but it’s the getting used to everything being the same but also being completely different that still threatens to bring me undone sometimes. That doesn’t make sense, does it?’

  ‘It does to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I was meant to be cheering you up. And here I am getting morose.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’m the one sitting here crying in public.’

  ‘Let’s just agree to stop apologising. I’m David, by the way,’ he said, putting out a hand.

  ‘I’m Hannah,’ she said, accepting it. ‘Thank you so much for stopping. I feel better now. I really do.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘I think I might be homesick, too.’

  ‘Do you know the best thing about being alone – and travelling on your own?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Being able to do exactly as you please and when. If you’re homesick, go home, Hannah. You have nothing to prove to anyone.’

  ‘Oh, well, I …’ Hannah wasn’t sure what to think.

  ‘And on that note, I’d better get myself and Kip here home and out of this cold wind. Goodbye, Hannah. It was a pleasure to meet you. All the very best,’ he said, getting up.

  ‘Thank you, David, and you, Kip. It was lovely to meet you both.’

  David put a finger to his head as if in a salute, smiled, nodded and left.

  Hannah watched after them until they turned the corner and then wiped away the remainder of her tears and got up. I’m okay. I’m enjoying being here. I’m having fun. Aren’t I?

  She thought about the other afternoon at a diner she’d found nearby, when she’d been served by singing waiters and waitresses. She’d passed it several times, but at regular meal times there had always been long queues outside. Until the other day at four p.m. She’d been hungry and as it seemed quiet, she’d ventured in. She’d initially cringed at discovering its unique selling feature – singing and dancing waiters who would spontaneously erupt into loud, lively performances – but she’d had an absolute ball. She’d found herself clapping along and boogying in her seat to the rock’n’roll as waiters danced around her, leaping up onto tables nearby. It was wonderful, and the one place she’d eaten in so far where she’d felt completely comfortable being a lone diner. Everywhere else had been welcoming enough, apart from the grumpy old men, but at this place they really looked after her. Tom, her personal waiter, was very attentive and put her at ease from the moment he greeted her at the door. She worked her way through the most amazing crispy chicken wings, coleslaw and garlic bread, and then New York cheesecake whilst soaking up the exuberant atmosphere. Having left an extra-large tip for Tom – who would ne
ver know just how much she’d appreciated his attention and warmth – she’d returned to her hotel feeling full and happy.

  Hannah now smiled at the memory.

  The one thing Hannah hadn’t found yet was the perfect souvenir for each of the girls.

  She’d visited stores full of pens, hats, t-shirts and sculptures of apples and landmarks in all shapes and sizes, but not found one ladybug beetle – let alone a nine-spotted version. Did no one know it was one of their city’s emblems?

  Hannah left the latest store feeling tired and a little dejected. And her feet were killing her. There was no way she could get back to the hotel without a fortifying cup of hot chocolate. She’d given up on coffee – she hadn’t had a decent cup yet and couldn’t for the life of her see what the appeal of Starbucks was other than the free Wi-Fi. She had coffee with her cooked breakfast each morning, but that was more as a necessity to get her going than out of any great enjoyment.

  Hannah looked around and saw a diner on the next corner. There seemed to be somewhere casual and cheap to eat every fifty metres. She walked in and smiled back to the waitress, who introduced herself as Chelsea.

  ‘Coffee?’ Chelsea asked.

  ‘No, thank you. Could I please get a hot chocolate and the warm apple pie?’

  ‘Sure thing. Won’t be a minute.’

  With the warmth of the staff and the sugar hit, Hannah left feeling much better. It took her several blocks to realise she’d taken a wrong turn and that the street names were going away from her hotel rather than towards it. And suddenly it was snowing heavily. She looked around for a shop to duck into and spied a small art gallery. She stared at a display of gorgeous cuff links in the window and felt sad. She should have been shopping for Tristan for Christmas. Swallowing down the rising emotion, she ventured in.

  ‘Hello,’ a lady called from behind a glass counter in the middle of the store.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Let me know if I can help you.’

  ‘Thanks very much. I’m just having a look.’

  ‘Oh, you’re Australian,’ the woman said, beaming.

  ‘Yes. I’m visiting from Melbourne for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘I hope you’re enjoying your visit.’

  ‘I am, very much, thank you. Except I’ve taken a wrong turn and apparently I’m heading downtown instead of up.’ She’d meant to be light-hearted, but just sounded weary. She was annoyed to suddenly find tears filling her eyes again.

  ‘Oh, my dear, you poor thing. Come over here and sit down,’ the lady said, pulling out a chair from near the counter.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m fine, just a bit tired.’ But Hannah sat down anyway.

  ‘I think it’s more than that. Your aura’s not looking so great,’ the lady said, frowning down at her.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Sorry, I should keep my thoughts to myself,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea.’

  Before Hannah could object, the woman had gone. She looked around at the lovely objects and paintings.

  ‘Here you are. I’m Brenda, by the way,’ the lady said, returning with two cups of milky tea and handing one to Hannah before taking a seat just behind the counter.

  ‘I’m Hannah. Thanks very much. I’m not sure what’s come over me,’ she said, taking a sip.

  ‘You’ve been through a lot.’

  ‘Everyone says travel is exhausting, now I know it’s true,’ Hannah said, smiling. ‘And today I’ve spent a frustrating day looking for the perfect souvenirs for my friends, and failed.’

  ‘You can only outrun things for so long.’

  ‘It’s fine, it’s only souvenirs.’ Hannah was starting to feel a little uneasy. Brenda was looking at her strangely – frowning and intense – as if she wasn’t quite looking at her. She was looking past her or through her. And then she seemed to shake her head and be all smiles and brightness again. Maybe she’s tired too, Hannah thought.

  ‘Is there something in particular you’re looking for?’

  ‘Well, I want to find a ladybug beetle – perhaps as a small enamel sculpture or a brooch. Glass even, and preferably made in America, not in China like so many of the souvenirs I’ve seen.’

  ‘Oh. No, sorry, we have nothing like that.’

  ‘I’ve found plenty of apples and of course souvenirs depicting the important buildings and landmarks – though made in China – but no ladybugs. I thought it would be the perfect gift – given their association with luck and New York.’

  ‘New York?’

  ‘It – the nine-spotted ladybug in particular – was made a state symbol in nineteen eighty-nine.’

  ‘Oh. I had no idea. How terrible of me.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re clearly not the only one who missed the memo.’

  ‘We do have some lovely timber puzzle boxes in the design of an apple – made by a local craftsman. Would you like to see one?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Here we are.’

  ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous!’ It would indeed make the perfect gift, though a little on the expensive side. But, then, she’d be buying something genuinely American and not a tacky object made in a sweat factory in China. ‘The only problem is I need seven. Do you have that many?’ She wanted to buy the same gift for all her friends who had been at her birthday lunch, so there were no misunderstandings. And she wanted one for herself too.

  ‘Hmm. I doubt it. I’ll check out the back. Excuse me a moment.’

  Feeling a little better, Hannah got up and took a stroll around the shop. A glass bowl in stunning shades of pink, purple and green – her three favourite colours – caught her attention. But she thought it would be impossible to get it home safely. Though it would be a lovely reminder of the trip.

  ‘I found two more.’

  ‘Oh,’ Hannah said, feeling deflated.

  ‘But we have another store so I’ll just phone and check.’

  ‘That would be good, thank you.’

  Hannah tried not to get her hopes up when she heard Brenda say, ‘That’s great. Hang on, I’ll just check.’

  ‘There are only two more at our store on Fifth Avenue – but that’s still only five. There’s a courier there right now so I can have them here in less than half an hour.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. Um, yes please.’ With Brenda standing with her hand over the receiver, Hannah felt pressured. Once she’d been good at making these sorts of decisions quickly.

  ‘It’s all right. There’s no obligation. If we get them here and you don’t like them, it’s no problem at all.’

  ‘Okay. Yes, please have them sent over. I’m sure they’ll be perfect.’ Only five. Damn. I can live without one – I’ve bought plenty of stuff – but that means I’m still one down.

  ‘Would you like another cup of tea while we wait?’

  ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’

  As they sat drinking tea, Hannah tried not to look at the bowl in the window. It kept catching her eye and she was beginning to fear she would not be able to walk away from it. She tried to calculate how much it would weigh and how she could rearrange her luggage to accommodate it. She’d have to see how big and heavy the parcel of wooden apple puzzle boxes turned out to be.

  Hannah noticed Brenda looking thoughtful, as if she were deliberating over whether to say something or not.

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I – that you’ve been through a lot?’

  ‘I must be looking haggard or like an unkempt backpacker,’ she said, smiling and smoothing her hands down her jeans. ‘But, yes, I have been through a bit,’ she said with a sigh. She didn’t really want to elaborate and risk crying.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss. Your husband and parents loved you very much,’ Brenda said. She had that strange look on her face again.

  Hannah’s eyes opened wide.

  ‘I don’t mean to pry. And please don’t be alarmed, but I have some psychic abilities – I see things,’ Brenda said. ‘There are times when I wish I didn’t, but it’s not some
thing I can control.’

  ‘Oh. Wow. Really?’ Hannah had the strange thought that Sam would love this. She was confused and not sure what to think – or where to look. The strangest thing for Hannah was that instead of feeling frightened, a sort of warm, peaceful feeling flooded through her.

  ‘I shouldn’t be saying anything. My boss would fire me.’

  ‘I won’t tell,’ Hannah found herself saying. ‘What can you see?’ she said, curiosity getting the better of her. Oh if only Sammy were here.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, go on.’ Can you see I’m not a believer? And I’m not, am I? ‘You said something about not outrunning things.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought I’d been facing up to things quite well, actually,’ she said, unable to keep the annoyed tone completely out of her voice.

  ‘Yes, but you’re here in New York, aren’t you, instead of being home and facing up to Christmas?’

  ‘Guilty as charged,’ she said a little sheepishly. ‘What?’ she asked as Brenda’s warm, sympathetic smile became a deep frown.

  ‘I think you’ll feel better when you get home.’

  ‘Yes, I think I’m starting to get a little homesick,’ Hannah said. ‘Can you be more specific?’

  ‘No, unfortunately my visions are rarely precise. I’m just the interpreter and medium passing them on. I’m seeing darkness, dark clouds gathering over you and your home. It could be symbolic or literal. But there’s also bright light behind the clouds. It tells me that good things, new things are coming. Yes, that’s it.’ She relaxed.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Soon. I think. Yes, very soon.’

  ‘When?’ Days, weeks, months?

  ‘Please don’t worry, Hannah, the dark clouds are clearing.’

  ‘Do you think I should cut my trip short and go home? Honestly?’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s really not for me to say. I couldn’t possibly advise you to do one thing or another. I’m just telling you what I’ve seen and I shouldn’t even have done that. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you concern. I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut,’ she added in a mutter as if to herself.